by Jory Strong
“Barefoot, bare-assed and pregnant. Whose fantasy would that be?” Savannah said, her tone undecipherable to Draigon.
“You do not want children?” he dared to ask, steeling himself for her answer, knowing even as he did so that regardless of what she said, he would find it impossible to give her up now.
Wariness skittered along Savannah’s spine. Whoa. How had things gotten so serious all of a sudden? Draigon looked like he didn’t plan on breathing until she answered his question and Kye was doing a great imitation of a statue.
Shit. Savannah retraced the conversation in her thoughts and didn’t know whether to be thrilled or worried. Yeah, these guys were definitely thinking long-term and serious. Picket-fences and children kind of serious.
She rolled her shoulders and told them the truth. “Sure, I want kids. In the future. In the distant future. As in, maybe once I’ve made detective.” And then in a non-subtle attempt to change the subject, she asked Kye, “So did the mugs confirm Kelleher and Vaccaro are who they say they are?”
“The scientists are still investigating,” Kye answered, grimacing when he saw her frown, when he read her intention to question him further. By the stars, she was a challenge! He decided to distract her, to replace her curiosity with a wrath he was sure to be the target of. “When I returned to Reno, I retrieved a case from a garage across from The Ferret’s apartment building. It was fashioned for a sniper’s weapon and I believe it might belong to one of the Abrego brothers. Perhaps Kelleher or Vaccaro would be interested in it.”
Savannah’s eyes widened then narrowed in suspicion. Her gaze going to the case and registration papers she’d noticed earlier then returning to Kye. “You went to The Ferret’s apartment building?”
“No. Only to the garage.” Kye shifted in his chair, hating that he couldn’t tell Savannah the entire truth, that he had spotted the sniper and reduced him to particles days ago and now only sought to verify it was one of drug lord’s lieutenants so he could determine which of their enemies was no longer a concern.
“And while you were checking out the garage, you just happened to stumble on a case that might have contained a sniper’s rifle?”
Kye winced at the skepticism in Savannah’s voice and decided that if he was to bear the brunt of her anger, he would rather have it over with quickly. “It was inside a van positioned in a spot which would conceal a sniper from view and yet allow someone to watch the front entrance of The Ferret’s building. I have the automobile’s registration papers as well.”
Savannah closed her eyes briefly. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or go ballistic. “Let me get this straight, you broke into a van and removed items from it? You’re admitting to a cop that you broke the law?”
“I would not put you in such an awkward position,” Kye said. “I am merely telling you of the items so you can decide whether or not to pass them on to Kelleher and Vaccaro for processing.”
Savannah took a deep breath, reminding herself Kye was a bounty hunter and bounty hunters were notorious for playing by a different set of rules. Rules that could land them in jail just as easily as they could land a criminal behind bars.
Shit, a minute ago the thought of living with both of them openly had seemed like a potential career-killer. And now this! Wouldn’t that be fun, having a boyfriend she was constantly posting bail for! The thought made her laugh, her sense of humor intruding despite how serious the underlying situation was.
“I’m forgiven?” Kye asked, his voice hopeful as he shifted closer. His lips incredibly persuasive when he trailed kisses from her ear to her mouth. “Keeping you safe is all that matters to me, Savannah.”
“To us,” Draigon said, also moving closer, unbuttoning her shirt and cupping her breast, toying with her nipple and sending heat straight to her clit. His hand following the trail of need, his fingers burrowing into her panties, dipping into her arousal before retreating to stroke and manipulate her swollen knob.
For a brief instant Savannah thought about claiming “foul”, about pointing out that two against one wasn’t playing fair, but as golden waves of pleasure rolled through her she gave herself up to their hands, their mouths. Didn’t resist when they took her back to bed.
Chapter Sixteen
They stretched Savannah out on the bed, working in concert, Draigon holding one wrist pinned to the mattress above her head while Kye held the other. Their lips slowly caressing her shoulders, then downward, reaching her breasts at the same time.
Savannah’s womb fluttered with the feel of tongues and soft mouths. She cried out when they both began sucking, their movements timed so well it was hard to believe they hadn’t done this together before, rehearsed until they’d perfected their technique, until words weren’t necessary between them in order to coordinate their assault on a woman’s body.
On her body.
She couldn’t stand the thought of them with anyone else.
“Please,” Savannah begged, spreading her legs, arching, starting to thrash as her clit throbbed in time to their sucks, as her channel spasmed, her cunt lips already swollen, opened. Needy.
And they responded, still in concert, their free hands roaming over her belly, lingering, petting the smooth skin and taut muscles before trailing over her hip and downward, exploring her inner thigh as though measuring her arousal by the wetness they found there. Forcing her to beg again, her please little more than a panting whisper.
Savannah’s body jerked when their hands slid upward, closed her eyes against the intense pleasure as Kye’s fingers circled and stroked her clit while Draigon’s explored her slit, teasing over her flushed and swollen labia, dipping into her channel then retreating, fucking her with shallow thrusts so that her cunt became a desperate, hungry mouth, clenching and unclenching as it tried to capture his fingers.
Her panted pleas for release became sobs as they took her to the edge time and time again only to pull back. To start all over until she was hyper-aware of every inch of her body, of each place they’d been, and especially the places where they still touched. Their hands on her wrists, their legs thrown over hers, pinning her in place. Their lips on her breasts. Their free hands between her legs. Their cocks slick and hard and smooth against her thighs.
Draigon’s mouth left her nipple and even the feel of air against her wet, love-tortured areola had her crying out. He kissed upward until his face hovered above hers. Their eyes meeting. His glittering, intense. Determined. “Accept the band I have crafted for you,” he said, his fingers fucking into her, reminding her that he held the key to her release.
She arched, whimpered, would have promised anything to be allowed to come. There was no possibility, no thought of answering anything but yes.
His mouth took hers then and she could taste his happiness, his joy as his tongue slid against hers, as emotion poured into her, filling her, filling them both and making it seem as though it was only the two of them. Trapped together in a timeless golden-encased moment.
When the kiss ended, Draigon shifted and Kye was there. Eyes dark with need. Nostrils flared. Face taut. “Accept my band as well,” he said, barely allowing her yes to escape before his lips were covering hers, his tongue plundering her mouth. His kiss savage at first, then gentling so she could feel his happiness, his satisfaction, his joy, all of it swamping her, a wave rushing through her and then receding, taking her with it. Leaving her burning, needing.
They released her wrists and ankles and Savannah took advantage of it when the kiss ended. Rolling, straddling Kye’s legs. Her hand going to his cock, her first thoughts to impale herself on it, but then Draigon’s fingers were between her thighs, coaxing her backward and onto her forearms and knees as Kye repositioned himself, his hands grasping the headboard, his penis now only inches from her face.
Heat roared through Kye, the desperate need for release. He had hated the thought of sharing Savannah with another, was still not quite comfortable with the idea of feeling Draigon’s cock rubbing against hi
s own in the tightness of their bond-mate’s body, but he had never experienced such powerful need, such raw desire as he’d experienced when he and Draigon had worked together, suddenly of one mind, to make some progress in the claiming of Savannah.
Kye jerked when Savannah’s tongue darted out, licking over the head of his penis and sending fiery bolts of pleasure through his shaft. Whispered “Please” when her hold on him tightened, when she took him into her mouth and began sucking, reducing him to the same helplessness in which they’d held her. His balls pulling tight, his cock throbbing, pulsing, screaming for release.
Savannah savored Kye’s pleading. Feminine power and satisfaction filling her, only to be reduced to whimpering need as Draigon’s fingers found her clit, gliding over it in time to her sucks on Kye’s cock, teasing her until she was the one straining, quivering, allowing Kye his release and then crying out in pleasure when Draigon finally filled the empty needy place in her. His thrusts fast and hard, his testicles slapping against her flesh as her erect knob stabbed into his hand, shooting bolt after bolt of ecstasy through her until she came in a rush, her channel clutching him, milking him even as she tumbled into exhausted satisfaction.
Savannah woke in heaven, or close to it, with Kye pressed against her back and Draigon at her front, lying on his back with her arm across his chest and her leg between his. God did it get any better than this? She grinned. Hell no.
Reality was much better than fantasy, even if reality did come with complications—like sliding Kye’s suspected breaking-and-entering past Vaccaro and Kelleher. Savannah grimaced. Suspected. Right. Then again, Vaccaro and Kelleher were after bigger fish so she had a feeling they weren’t going to ask a lot of questions.
It took her a moment to notice the band on her wrist, to check her other wrist and determine it also had a bracelet on it. To remember how they’d tortured her by not letting her climax until she agreed to what they wanted.
Every time she looked at the bands she was going to think about Kye and Draigon’s brand of persuasion. And as soon as she had the opportunity, she was going to bring out the ropes and reciprocate. She’d tie them to the bed one at a time and find every erogenous zone, then exploit it until they agreed to what she wanted—answers. About their home. Their people. Their culture. And especially why there were two men for every woman.
Oh yeah, they’d tell her everything she wanted to know and she’d reward them just like they’d rewarded her. With pleasure so intense it would knock them out.
She rose onto an elbow so she could study Draigon as he slept. He was a surprise. Her opposite and Kye’s in a lot of ways. And yet she enjoyed him. Immensely. And not just because of the fantastic sex. He was the perfect fit for her and Kye. The straight-man on their comedy team. Adding depth and texture and richness with his presence.
She stroked his chest, loved how warm his skin felt against her own, smiled when he stirred and opened his eyes, revealing a wealth of unguarded emotion as his cock echoed his pleasure at waking to find her attention focused on him. Savannah leaned down, brushed his lips with hers, laughing softly when his cock pulsed against her thigh. “Someone’s happy,” she teased, moaning when Draigon’s fingers tangled in her hair, holding her so he could spear his tongue into her mouth in a kiss that left no doubt what his intentions were.
“You are well?” he asked, the gleam of masculine satisfaction and pride telling her he would savor riding her into oblivion for a long time to come.
“Well and plotting my revenge.”
“I am not afraid.”
“You should be. Very, very afraid.” But before she could elaborate, her cell phone began ringing.
Savannah scrambled out of bed, waking Kye in the process. Both men following her into the kitchen. Distracting her for an instant with their nakedness and their twin frowns—until she answered the phone.
“You still willing to meet?”
She gave Kye and Draigon a thumbs-up at the sound of The Ferret’s voice. “Where?”
“How long will it take you to get on Three-forty-one heading toward Virginia City?”
“An hour, maybe a little longer.”
“How soon can you leave?”
“As soon as I get dressed.”
“Okay. Get on Three-forty-one. I’ll call you later and tell you where to meet. Don’t go past Virginia City if you don’t hear from me.” He paused. “Come alone. No other cops. I see another cop and you won’t see me.”
Maybe before the Guzman brothers had jumped her she would have agreed. Not now. “I won’t bring another cop, but I had to get a couple of bodyguards since you set up the first meet.”
“They with you now?”
Savannah looked up, finding Kye and Draigon standing right in front of her. Tension radiating off them. Their muscles tight, showing off warrior bodies though their expressions clearly said she wouldn’t be going anywhere if it was up to them. “I’m looking at them.”
“The guys you were eating with at Bert’s?”
“Yeah. They come with me or I don’t come at all,” Savannah said, her sense of humor intruding as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Oh yeah, she was pretty sure Kye and Draigon had ruined her for any other man. Now she’d be lucky if she could make herself come.
“Okay. Bring them,” The Ferret said and the line went dead.
Savannah delayed long enough to tell Kye and Draigon the plan then set the phone down so she could retrieve one of the FBI agents’ cards.
She wears our bands, Draigon said, his gaze following Savannah’s movements. We should put a stop to this foolishness now.
Is that wishful thinking? You have spent time alone with her. Do you truly believe it is possible to prevent her from doing this? Kye shook his head. If you want to pick this moment to battle with Savannah, that is your choice. But I have to ask, has she given the bands more than a passing glance? Have you spoken to her about their significance?
No.
Nor have I. They are pieces of jewelry to her. Nothing more. We knew this meeting was a possibility. And we will keep her safe. The sooner she is finished with this business, the sooner we can convince her to leave with us.
Draigon’s frown intensified as Savannah walked toward them, Vaccaro’s card in hand. He remembered the flash of Savannah’s anger in the truck when he told her he could not tolerate her being in danger. Her heated reply found him easily. I’m a cop, Draigon. Danger comes with the territory. Same as it comes with being a bounty hunter. I hope you’re not going to tell me what’s okay for a man isn’t okay for a woman.
He hated to admit it, but Kye was right. There would be no winning this fight with her. She was intent on her course of action and anything they did to prevent her from following it would undo the progress they had made with her. With a silent nod Draigon agreed with Kye’s assessment and shifted his attention to Savannah’s conversation with the FBI agent.
“I just set up a meet with Ricky,” Savannah said, not surprised when Vaccaro answered on the first ring. “He’s agreed to my bodyguards but says he’ll disappear if he sees anyone else.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know yet. He’s going to call me in an hour.”
“On your cell?”
“Yes.”
“Hold on. Kelleher’s right here.”
She could hear a muted conversation. Strategy rather than argument. Vaccaro came back on the line. “Okay. Whatever Nowak’s offering, tell him you can promise him immunity and immediate protection if he’s willing to talk to us. If he goes for it, call with a location and Kelleher and I’ll come in and take over.”
Savannah wrinkled her nose. Right. His easy agreement made her think they were going to use her cell phone to track her—if they weren’t already doing that. Otherwise Vaccaro would never have let her call the shots. Rolling over was not the FBI way of doing things.
“One other thing,” she said, glancing at the rifle case and wanting to get Kye’s misadventure in the garage behind th
em. “You ever heard of Wray Investments?”
“Why?” This time Vaccaro’s voice was all FBI.
“There was a van registered to Wray Investments in the garage across from Nowak’s place. Inside the van was a case, now in my possession. The rifle is missing, but the layout of the interior says sniper to me.” Not that she’d seen the inside of it for herself, but she trusted Kye’s assessment.
“And how did you come by this, Holden?”
“So you know something about Wray?”
A sigh. “I’m beginning to see how you got your reputation for being a pain in the ass.”
Savannah grinned despite her underlying worry for Kye. “Yeah, well, that’s just a vicious rumor. Let me guess, Wray Investments is one of Carlos Dominguez’s suspected front corporations.” Another sigh on the other end. She pressed the issue. “We’re wasting time here, Vaccaro. I’m supposed to be leaving to meet Nowak. Yes or no. Wray Investments is connected to Dominguez.”
Vaccaro choked back a laugh. “Yes. Don’t bother telling me the van was unlocked and the door was wide open, I’m just going to assume it was. You happen to get a license plate number?”
“Even better. I’ve got the registration papers.” Savannah looked at them and read the license number off to him.
“Probably Errol Abrego. We’ve seen him in a van with those plates before.”
“Which one is he, Psycho I or Psycho II?” She needed the tags Vaccaro had applied to the pictures in order to call up the facial images.
“Psycho I. There was no sight of him in the garage?” Now Vaccaro’s voice was puzzled.
“None.” Savannah hesitated. “Mastrin and Creech from Vice showed up as my…source was leaving.”
“I’ll pass the information on to Kelleher. You heading out now to meet Nowak?”
“Yes.”
“Bring the papers and the case.”
“Sure,” she said to dead air.
Savannah closed the phone and looked at Kye. “Well, that went better than expected. Ready for the fun to start?”
